Animus Train
by NuhaH
Summary: What would happen if the Assassin's (and a few others) wound up in a train, with no way out? Well, that would be a big issue wouldn't it? They all have to learn to cope with each other, and somehow find a way out of this huge mess while trying to stop the crazy-holo woman who typically wants world domination. Enjoy :)
1. Animus glitch

**This is something I wanted to try since it's been on my mind for a little while. Anyhow, let me know how it went via PM's or reviews. I may have overlooked some details or made a few grammar mistakes so bear with me, I'll make any modifications if I have to. In this chapter we don't meet all the assassin's yet but we'll see 'em next time.  
So, on with the story!**

Desmond forced his eyelids open as his conscience was ejected from the Animus and back into reality. He rubbed his eyes before pushing himself off of the seat, his vision blurring together then finally focusing on the three faces in front of him. Shaun had his arms folded, his glasses sitting comfortably on the bridge of his nose, looking expectantly at Desmond while Rebecca leant over a computer monitor as William observed him, rubbing his chin. His head was throbbing after a life's worth of memories being pushed into his brain, the bleeding effect taking its toll.  
"How are you feeling, Desmond?" William questioned monotonously, more out courtesy then genuine concern. Desmond rubbed the back of his head and stood up.  
"Like shit" he answered almost spitting the words.  
He groaned as he felt a sudden impulse of pain through his skull and cursed under his breath.  
The inside of the temple was exactly something you would see out of a sci-fi film, the stone walls gleaming metallically and luminous strips of light travelling up and down the impossibly intricate structures. Sitting in their allocated slots were the power sources, glowing ominously from the rock they were embedded in, each of them a pain to retrieve. The silver sheen of the stone was unnatural like the random floors and platforms seemingly floating close to the walls. In the centre of it all was a mess of monitors, boxes, and computers brought here by the four of them here. Wires trailed along the floor, most of which were connected between the Animus and the computers. On one of the tables set up, the Apple had rolled precariously to the edge but was picked up by Shaun and put in a safer spot.

His legs wobbled momentarily before gaining full balance of his feet. His jeans were crumpled and his hidden blade was still strapped tightly on to his arm on top of his sleeve. He blinked a few times then waited expectantly for some sort of notion of what to do from William, Shaun or Rebecca.

"We still need more information, Des" Rebecca informed, not even looking up from the computer screen, her dark hair flopped over her face and pair of red headphones hung round her neck. The monitor was displaying numbers and codes he couldn't make sense of but somehow was readable to Rebecca and Shaun.

"So it's back in the Animus for you!" Shaun exclaimed in mock excitement. His grey sweater sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, his face grinning.

"Shut up, Shaun" Desmond responded._ Why does he have to be so goddamn annoying…?_

"He's right Desmond, you have go to back in" William agreed, diving Desmond a stern look. Desmond opened his mouth to protest.

"You have to, we haven't got much time here" William added, and gestured towards the Animus. Desmond huffed then walked over to Rebecca's table and took a sip from the glass of water sitting on it. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand then trudged over to the Animus, wanting to let out a flurry of cusses, cursing and swearwords back at his father who did little more than just watch him. _It was his ancestor too…  
_He slumped into the red seat of the Animus and sighed as both Rebecca and Shaun started typing commands on keyboards. He closed his eyes once more as his conscience was sucked into the machine.  
He found himself, just as before, in the middle of seemingly endless white expanse of inside the Animus. Desmond stretched his arms and back before cracking his knuckles, waiting expectantly for the world to load around him.

As per usual, reflective triangular shapes broke off from where the floor was meant to be, then reformed to create his surroundings. Slowly the leaves, twigs and branches of trees were formed, and then the bricks, windows and doors of the Davenport homestead. It was taking longer than usual for the world to form, the triangles moving a little slower to their places. Desmond clenched and unclenched his fists, waiting impatiently.  
Suddenly the world _rippled,_ the triangles suddenly becoming distorted and separating from the trees and building.

"Shaun? Rebecca? Something's wrong" he called.

"Des, we have…to … get…you…out-"the sentence was punctuated with bursts of static as Rebecca's voice was finally cut off from outside the Animus.

"Guys!?" he asked a little more desperately. No response.

The reflective shapes with unnatural speed formed into something else. Rows of brown worn seats formed as well as windows, wall panels, seatbelts and smaller details like emergency stop buttons and advertisements came into view. Desmond found himself on the inside of a train, but exactly where the train was, he had no idea. Through the windows he could only see black and figured he was probably in a tunnel._ What the-?  
_His body hadn't transformed into anyone else's, meaning he wasn't reliving a memory. Maybe this was an area that was just in the Animus database. He was sure he wasn't in a coma like last time, so why was he here? This wasn't right. Desmond took in his surroundings, then went over to a seat and sat down to silently panic.

The adverts were in several different languages and promoted products like the latest technology to shampoos and medicine. He spotted the logo of Abstergo industries, apparently launching their own compact version of the Animus to the public. The place smelt a little stale, as if something had previously rotted or died in here, with the faint smell of chewing gum.  
Desmond leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees while fiddling with his fingers. He didn't know what to do. He sighed, and then stood up. He walked along the carriage he was in and wondered what would be his first course of action.  
He dug his hands into his pockets and looked through the carriage door to the next section of the train. His eyes moved towards the emergency stop button to his right. He took a hand out his pocket and slammed the red button with a fist, then grabbed one of the support beams, expecting the train to skitter to halt.

Somewhere a woman laughed lightly, and Desmond whipped around. No-one was there, he recognised the voice, but couldn't put a finger on it. The train carried on at its normal pace, and could hear the steady _chug-chug _of the train moving along the tracks. Desmond pushed the button several times, but nothing was happening. _Damn._ He paced up and down the aisle, alone, on this mysterious train. Finally, he sat down again, tapping his foot against the grey plastic covered flooring.

.

.

.

Connor sat alone, at the table in the dining room of the Davenport homestead. He fidgeted with his right hidden blade, sheathing and retracting it, his tomahawk sitting directly in front of him on the table. On the other end, was the Apple of Eden which sat lifelessly, as if mocking him. What was he supposed to do with it? Throw it? Kick it? What did this inanimate object want from him? He wanted to all out smash it against the floor and walls to see of it would do anything, but common-sense told him otherwise – he settled for giving it death-glares. He knew it was important, and why, too, but the relic annoyed him. It annoyed him very much. His people left it behind, and he was confused as to why. He was told by the 'spirits' that he had done his part and was left with the Apple. He had to keep it safe. But right now he wanted it to do something, anything, which would give him answers. He pushed his chair back and walked over to the Apple, an orb with a glassy surface patterned with lines and circles. He picked it up and stared down at it from beneath his hood.  
As anticipated it did nothing.  
Disappointedly he put it down, and as he did so someone knocked on the door. Connor went out into the corridor and swung open the front door. He was met with the smiling face of Deborah Carter or rather, Dobby. Her brown hair was tied into a ponytail and she was wearing a dark coat despite the fairly warm weather.

"'Ello Connor" she beamed.

"Hello, Dobby. I take it someone needs my assistance?"

"Yep, Prudence. With the pigs"

"Again?" _The things you do for these people, Ratonhnhake:ton._

"Looks like it"

"Allow me to get my things"

"What, your tomahawk? It's not like they're Templar pigs!"

"But what if something were to happen?"

"You already carry around dozens of weapons around with you, anyway" she crossed her arms and gave Connor one of her 'are-you-kidding-me?' looks.

Connor made a face; it was the most expression he had shown all day. Dobby sighed then gestured towards the door, giving in. He nodded then went back in the house, and into the dining room. He took the weapon from the table and noticed the wood vibrating. Connor's eyes travelled to the Apple which was pulsating against the piece of furniture, the lines and circles illuminated with a golden glow. He approached it slowly, and then reached for it. It was vibrating in the palm of his hand and was making a strange _pinging _sound.  
He watched it, with his tomahawk in the other hand. He used the back of his tomahawk hand to move the hood off his head and get a better look.  
_Wait, this isn't meant to happen  
_The Apple was going crazy in his hand now, and soon the dining room was dissolving into millions of reflective triangles revealing endless plains of white. Connor looked worriedly about himself and heard a familiar voice, laughing.

"Who is there?" he demanded. No answer. He turned around repeatedly in the middle of the white area, triangles still dissolving from his former surroundings. The Apple in his palm was felling increasingly lighter and look back at it in bewilderment to see it was fading, becoming more and more transparent. When it faded altogether his arm fell to his side, and watched as the triangles hastily formed into another world.

.

.

.

Desmond had sat here, his shoulders hunched, for hours, occasionally getting up to try call out to Rebecca and Shaun or attempt in vain to get the train to stop. Forcing the door open or trying to break the windows would be madness in a tunnel, not that he would be able to anyway. The train seemed stuck in this never ending darkness, going on endlessly, never reaching a stop or station, or ever coming out into the open. The grey walls and curved ceiling had some unreadable graffiti on them which he dismissed. That wasn't really important when you're trapped in a train.  
Desmond was tapping his foot against the floor when his ears picked up a sound. It was…odd. Words couldn't really describe it but if he tried he would say it sounded like a long drawn out chime. He sat up straight and listened hard, making sure he was imagining things. He heard it again.

A white light engulfed the carriage, blinding him momentarily. Desmond brought up his arm to shield his eyes when he made out a tall figure standing, rather confused. Animus triangles were disappearing at his feet while the light cleared.  
_Holy…  
_Connor looked about puzzled, wielding his tomahawk and now in a defensive stance. His eyes caught on to Desmond, whose jaw was hanging open.  
"Where am I? What is this place?" he demanded. The 18th century man was taking in the sights of a modern day train, looking even more mind-blown. Desmond mentally shook himself out of his daze and now had find a way to go about explaining some things to a very angry, startled, half-native Assassin.

_Right…_

**There ya go! Thanks for reading and if any of you are waiting for Ezio or Altair, don't worry they should turn up at the next or third chapter.  
Until next time people...**


	2. No kids yet

**We now meet teh other Assassins! You guys may be confused but things will get a little clearer with the plot as chapters go by. Anyhow, leave a review, follow, favourite or just read. Constructive criticism is welcome and whatever suggestions you have are welcome too.**

**I realised I made a mistake with Ezio after Guest pointed it out (thanks) so I changed this chapter a little since Ezio had heard of Desmond before. I never got to do a full play-through on Brotherhood so I'll get round it ( I had to share wiv my cousins)**

Ezio was in the courtyard of San Pietro, knowing exactly where to go and where it was hidden. His boots made a clacking sound as the heels hit the tiled floor echoing against the masses of stone holding up the whole building. He made his way to the pavilion in the centre of it all, which was decorated with triangular shaped tiles that slated across each other and ornate columns supporting the structure. Ezio was focused on getting the Apple, the piece of Eden, but a tiny part of him couldn't help thinking about how hungry he was. After running around after Borgias, free-running and excessive amounts of assassinating he didn't have much time to eat. Or sleep. However that would have to wait, he needed to get the Apple before Cesare did.

Ezio came up to the pavilion and pulled at one of the slats. It peeled off like dry skin from the sculpture in the middle, and in the cavity it revealed the Apple or rather, an Apple. This one was steely grey in colour but shone as brightly as another he'd come across. When he grabbed it began reacting in his hand and he knew exactly how to use it.

From his left Cesare and two guards entered, the Borgia, furious.

"You!?" Cesare sputtered, the effect of the poison making his voice raspy. He swayed on his feet as if having difficulty to stand.

"Looking for this?" Ezio said mockingly, holding out the Apple for Cesare to see.

"It ends now, _Assassino_. My sword will take your life" suddenly he clutched his stomach, and his face contorted with pain. He stayed standing but backed away a little.

"Guards!" he screeched and gestured towards Ezio with his sword. The guards ran forward, their swords sheathed. Ezio in reaction activated the Apple, gold lines shooting out of it, lining the surrounding area like a web. The guards faltered and were soon engulfed by a flash of darkness. Then they fell to the floor, dead.

"GUARDS! GUARDS!" Cesare was panicking and stumbled as he tried to escape the courtyard. Ezio allowed him to go; he wasn't going to kill Cesare yet. He looked on at the man who was previously threatening him now desperate to leave, coughing and heaving. _What he really needs, _Ezio thought_, are better guards_.

He looked down at the Apple in his hand which was now calm and lifeless as it was before he used it. Ezio held on to it as he stepped down from the pavilion and set about finding a way to leave the courtyard, no doubt Cesare came with more than two guards. He was about to begin scaling a wall when he felt a strange vibrating in his hand. Soon enough he realised it was Apple which had now suddenly decided it was going to start glowing and pulsing again. Ezio held it out in front of him to see what this thing intended to do, and before he could fully understand what was going on, the world gave way to a flurry of moving triangles, revealing a white expanse. He was confused and looked about him and was sure that this was the Apple's doing.

"What is this?" he whispered to himself. Maybe he imagined it, but a faint laughing was heard, that of woman he recognised.

The reflective triangles were forming something else and Ezio could only make out two people already there.

.

.

.

Al Mualim lay dead; his body limp on the stone floor. Altair stepped over his master, and then walked over to the ominous artefact that had rolled from Al Mualim's hand. He retracted his hidden blade and came up a few steps from the orb, the designs patterned on it shining with a golden glow. It was rattling against the stone more and more fiercely, and then a yellow light projected upwards. The Apple was displaying an image, a globe, and various points on the surface marked by bright dots. Words flickered on and off the map of the world, some in Arabic but most in languages he couldn't recognise, along with other strange symbols. The globe spun slowly showing him other locations of other Pieces of Eden as he stared in awe at the both the image and the Apple. Altair paid little attention to the footsteps coming from behind him.

Malik came with several other Assassins, halting just before the Apple. On seeing it, he gasped and his jaw went slack. His eyes darted from Altair to the Apple, and raised a hand to signal for the Assassins to remain still. Altair stared on, seeming rather calm and collected.

The image of the globe was finally _sucked_ back in to the Apple along with the light that came with the projection. However the Apple itself was still shining, undisturbed. Altair remained silent but crouched beside the Apple before taking it in his hand.

"Altair?" Malik asked. His men were taken aback and shuffled around, waiting for some orders.

Altair didn't answer. He kept looking at the artefact. How was he to destroy it?

"What of Al Mualim?" Malik tried again.

"Dead" Altair replied coldly, his eyes still on the Apple. Malik looked around and caught sight of the lifeless body of their master. Altair stood up and turned to face Malik, Apple in hand "This, brother, must never get in to the wrong hands" he informed.

Malik nodded. Altair walked briskly past him, the tail of his robes flying behind him. Malik followed him, wanting to ask Altair dozens of questions but most of all he wanted to know more about the Apple. Malik gestured for his men to leave and help the other Assassins, many of which were just recovering from Al Mualim's 'spell'. What scared him most was that the Apple had caused it, and it was the very Apple Altair was holding.

Altair made his way quickly through the corridors of the fortress passing by many Assassins who were rubbing their heads and asking each other what had happened. Malik trailed behind, realising they were making their way to the Masyaf tower. He took two steps at a time, trying to keep up with Altair who was moving a lot faster than usual.

Altair pushed the door open, and laid the Apple on one of the desks. He leant on the table watching the artefact which was still glowing. It throbbed with an unknown energy and was vibrating.

"What now, Altair?"

"We must destroy it"

"How?"

"I do not know"

Malik went over to the desk and observed the Apple along with him. He wasn't sure what to make of it, and reached for it along with Altair who must have had the same trail of thought.

They both grabbed the Apple and as soon as they did, they world around them began to disappear and gave way to something very, very different.

.

.

.

"How the hell did you get here!?" Desmond questioned.

"I do not know. I was hoping you would have some answers" Connor replied, doing a very good job of keeping a straight face.

"But you can't be here, not in the Animus-"

"-Animus?"

"It's a lot to explain, Connor-"

"How do you know my name?"

"Look-"

"Did you bring me here?"

"No-"

"Then why-"

Desmond and Connor stood right in front of each other, Connor towering over Desmond still wielding his tomahawk. Connor hadn't yet recovered being pulled out the 18th century and into a train and was asking questions to the only other person in the area, Desmond, in an interrogative manner. Neither of them were supplying the other with the answers they wanted and both were slightly annoying each other. Desmond needed Connor to calm down a little to explain the two were actually related but the chances of that happening were looking very slim.

They were in the middle of question-asking when yet another white light flashed across the train, blinding both Desmond and Connor. Both Desmond and Connor shielded their eyes, Desmond bracing himself for another arrival, Connor for the unknown. Both could make out a figure standing with his hand held out but nothing in it.

_Not again…_

Ezio emerged from the rapidly fading white light, and was in a daze. He had no time to process what was going on when another flash of white blinded them again, Desmond having to strain his eyes to actually have a chance of seeing anything.

Altair and Malik stood beside each other and by the looks of it, were arguing too.

"What did you do?" Altair asked accusingly.

"What do you mean? I did nothing, you novice!" Malik exclaimed.

"Maybe if you didn't touch the Apple-"

"Hey guys, over here" Desmond interrupted, all eyes were on him now and within a span of two seconds everyone started blurting out their questions and voicing their concerns.

"Why are we here?"

"Who are you?"

"Why have you brought us here?"

"Guys, would you just-"

"What is your name?"

"People, calm-"

"You know him?"

"I do not know this man"

"Does he know you?"

"I know all of you!"

"How!?" they said in unison. Ezio, Altair, Malik, and Connor now surrounded Desmond in the middle of the carriage isle, looking like they were on the verge of using their hidden blades.

"Maybe if you let me e-"

"Your clothes are funny" Malik said, completely off topic. There were nods of agreement from the other Assassins who were all, excluding Desmond, in Assassin robes.

He was the only one in jeans and a white hoodie, and wasn't in the traditional Assassin getup.

"Strange as his clothes may be" Ezio said "We should let him speak"

Desmond nodded thanks at Ezio. Desmond pushed his way passed Malik and sat himself down on a seat, and the other Assassins did the same. Ezio poked the table on one of the backseats and jumped back when the table unlatched itself and fell into place, revealing the cup holder with an assortment of stains on the hard plastic. He then moved away from the scene like a small child who had just stolen the last cookie from the jar, looking around to see if anyone noticed.

Everyone else sat normally on their seats, and then joined by Ezio, to hear what Desmond had to say.

"Well, uh let me start with this- I'm Desmond, Desmond Miles. And I'm your descendant-"

"What?" Altair spoke "Whose descendant?" _Well done Des, you're going to mindfuck them even more._

Ezio raised an eyebrow but smoothed over his expression quickly, knowing he had heard the name before. He kept quiet, not entirely wanting to give up the information he had yet to complete strangers. He would talk to this 'Desmond' later.

"Um, all of you, apart from Malik. First Altair, then Ezio, then Connor and then me. There's a few hundred years between us all"

"How do you know this, Desmond?" Ezio piped in with his Italian accent. Everyone else was shifting uncomfortably in their seats, trying to find a comfy spot before turning their full attention to Desmond.

"You wouldn't believe me"

"The fact that I am here is unbelievable. Now tell us, how do you know?"

"This may sound crazy, but there's this machine, the Animus and it lets me relive your memories. Don't ask me how it works, all I know it uses genetic memory-" Desmond noticed them looking very confused and saw Connor about to open his mouth to ask what 'genetic' memory was "Look, it just works. I can relive your memories and that's how I know you."

"Why would you want to relive our memories? Are those not our private thoughts?" Connor asked. There were mumbles of agreement from Malik and Altair.

"I never wanted to, but I have to. It's a long story" Desmond decided it would be better to explain later rather than now since they already had their minds blown for one day.

"Wait, if you are their descendant, doesn't that mean they have children?" Malik said, looking at Altair whose face was rapidly changing expressions as realisation dawned on him. Ezio and Connor exchanged looks.

"Yeah, they do"

"But I have no children!" Altair blurted out.

"Neither do I!" Connor exclaimed his face going slightly red.

"_Oh dio_" Ezio mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

_Way to go Desmond! Maybe you should shut up now…_

"You guys haven't got kids…yet"

…_or not_

This silenced the Assassins while Connor was quietly getting redder and pulled up his hood before anyone took any notice.

"Desmond?" Ezio asked all of a sudden "May I ask of our whereabouts?"

"I think we're in the Animus. Except none of us are reliving memories, just stuck here"

"Is this what the Animus looks like? I must say, _amico,_ it is very ugly"

"No, the Animus itself basically a chair with machinery attached to it. This is just one of the places it recreates; right now we're in a train. Thing is, I have no idea how you guys got here."

"What's a train?" Malik questioned, looking around the train carriage.

Desmond realised it would take some time for them to process everything; talking to people he knew so well but didn't know a thing about him.

**There ya go! In case you didn't know this is where the Assassins are from:**

**Altair - Assassin's creed – death of Al Mualim**

**Ezio - Brotherhood – getting the Apple before Cesare after he killed Rodrigo**

**Connor- AC3 – After events of the game but before Tyranny of King Washington**

**Desmond - AC3- after getting all three power sources and reliving Connor's life when he killed Charles Lee**

**I hope this made things clearer.**

**Until next time peoples…**


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